


Fake Dating | The Malfoy Crash Course in Dating Excellence

by Drarrelie



Series: Seven Shades of Romance [7]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bets & Wagers, Closeted Bisexual Harry Potter, Community: Seven Shades of Drarry, Confident Draco Malfoy, Fake Dating, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Harry is a hot mess, Light Angst, M/M, Makeover, Oblivious Harry Potter, Out and Proud Draco Malfoy, POV Harry Potter, Pining, Romance, Sassy Draco Malfoy, Smitten Harry Potter, Tropes, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-15 11:34:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29313411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drarrelie/pseuds/Drarrelie
Summary: Harry sucks at dating. Malfoy is a dating whizz. Hermione suggests the perfect solution.Or, how Harry Potter finally learned how to date like a pro.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: Seven Shades of Romance [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2153148
Comments: 22
Kudos: 194
Collections: Seven Shades of Drarry





	Fake Dating | The Malfoy Crash Course in Dating Excellence

**Author's Note:**

> This work is part of the [Seven Shades of Romance anthology](https://archiveofourown.org/series/2153148), the fourth in a series of collaborative projects within the [Seven Shades of Drarry](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Seven_Shades_of_Drarry) collective.
> 
> Chosen tropes: Fake Dating, Bets & Wagers, Oblivious Harry, Out and Proud Draco, Friends to Lovers
> 
> A huge thank you to my fellow Shady Ladies for always being there for me, encouraging me and pushing me to improve and evolve, as a writer and as well as a human being. Your presence in my life has made all the difference this past year and I wouldn't be even close to where I am today if it weren't for you. 💙
> 
> Disclaimer: All characters belong to JKR and associated publishers. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended. The comments and opinions expressed by the original creator do not reflect the views of the author of this transformative work.
> 
> There’s also a playlist created for this anthology that can be found [here on Spotify](https://spoti.fi/3tIY5TG); one song for each of the seven fics included in the collection.
> 
> Accompanying song: “Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered” with Sinead O’Connor.

* * *

“That’s it.” Harry slumps down in his chair and hides his face in his hands. “I officially suck at dating.”

Cynthia had seemed really into him when they met a few weeks ago at Seamus and Dean’s New Year’s party. And yet, it only took her three dates for the usual ‘I’m sorry, Harry, I don’t think we should see each other anymore,’ to escape her lips.

“Oh, Harry. Please don’t say that.” Hermione scurries around the table to sit down beside him, placing a consoling hand on his shoulder.

Harry glances at her sideways through his fingers. “Why not? It’s true.”

“What is?” Harry looks up to find Malfoy smiling gleefully at him as he places a fresh round of drinks on the table.

“Harry sucking at dating.” Ron grins and grabs his pint before it even touches the sticky surface.

“Don’t we all?” Malfoy chuckles and takes the vacated seat opposite Harry. Harry glares at him. If anyone excels at the dating game, it’s Malfoy; always entertaining a new fling and seemingly loving every minute of it. “What?” Malfoy shrugs innocently. “Either I suck him or he sucks me, and whichever way, a fun time is had by all.”

Ron snorts, sending beer up his nose as Harry scowls. “I’m not like you, Malfoy. I’m not in it for a quick shag. I want to find someone to fall in love with, something real.”

“I can get anyone to fall in love with me if I wanted to.”

“Really?” Hermione’s eyes twinkle and Malfoy smirks. “So why don’t you teach him how to do it?”

“Now, there’s a thought.” Malfoy takes a sip of his wine while Harry splutters, lost for words as he looks between the two of them. “All right, Potter. Here’s a proposition for you. It’s four weeks until Valentine’s Day. How about, during this time, you’ll date me? I’ll study your moves, give you practical tips for improvement, and teach you all there is to know about successful dating.”

Harry swallows. It’s not that he’d never date a man, he just… hasn’t. Yet. But dating a friend? It just seems… _wrong_. He tells Malfoy as much.

“Well, that won’t be a problem, would it, since we’ll not be dating for real? It’s just one friend helping out another. You know what? Go out with me, and I bet you ten Galleons your Valentine’s date will end up better than any other date you’ve ever had.”

“But, I—”

“Scared, Potter?”

The challenging glint in Malfoy’s eye has the same effect on Harry as it’s always had.

“You wish!”

“Then…?”

“All right, Malfoy,” Harry grits, against his better judgement. “I’m going to date the fuck out of you. Now, drink your poncy wine and I’ll pick you up tomorrow at noon.”

* * *

“So,” Harry says as the waitress retreats with their empty dishes, “what’s the verdict?”

Malfoy had suggested Harry ‘do his thing’ for the first hour of their so-called date, claiming he wanted to ‘observe and evaluate his raw material’ before deciding on a plan of action.

“Honestly, Potter? If this is the best you can do, there’s no wonder you’re still single.” Harry opens his mouth to retort but hesitates. Malfoy’s not mocking him, he realises, but sounds genuinely concerned, as if he’s actually looking to help. “Why did you choose this place?”

Harry frowns, sweeping his gaze around the bistro he’d chosen for their ‘date’. “Why? I come here all the time, and none of my dates has ever complained about it before. I like that it’s Muggle; that, here, I can be just Harry. I know the staff; I like the food. It’s a perfectly good place for a date.”

Malfoy sighs and shakes his head, exasperated. “It’s loud,” he says, raising one long, slender finger as he starts ticking off his mental list, “which doesn’t encourage conversation. The lighting is much too bright for anyone to feel attractive. The vegetables were overcooked, the waitress is a walking perfume factory, and this table is unbalanced. Want me to go on?”

“I— No?” Harry squirms, avoiding Malfoy’s intense eyes.

“No? Then, how about your performance?”

“My…?” _Merlin, is this what an audition feels like?_ Harry rubs his hands against his jeans, his palms suddenly and inexplicably sweaty.

“Yes. Let’s talk about the topics that should always be avoided when you’re on a date; or at least before you know each other much better.” That same finger comes up again as Harry nods, already knowing he’s going to get properly chastised. “The throes of the dating scene, past relationships, politics, religion, and life problems. Tell me, how many of those did you touch on this past hour?”

“Er… Four?”

“Yes, Potter, four. Out of five. Additionally, you spoke with food in your mouth on at least three occasions and checked your watch more times than I could count. You didn’t refill my water glass and there’s a drop of sauce at the corner of your mouth — yes, right there” — Malfoy purses his lips and touches the tip of his index finger against his mouth — “that’s been there for at least fifteen minutes.”

Harry hastens to wipe the offending drop away, feeling heat rise on his cheeks. “Anything else?”

“Well, yes.” Malfoy smirks. “You showed up ten minutes late—”

Harry smiles sheepishly. “You know me, I’m always late…”

“—and you haven’t put any effort into your choice of clothes—”

“…which can hardly be a surprise to you; you’re always telling me I don’t have any fashion sense.”

“—neither of these a good first impression on a date.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Come on, Malfoy, it’s _us_. It’s a bit late for first impressions, isn’t it?”

“That’s not the point. If you want this to work, you’ll have to pretend that this is real. You need to treat me as if I were the girl of your dreams.”

“I— But…” Harry blinks. “You’re a man?”

“Obviously.”

“No, I mean, I’ve never dated a man before, I don’t know what to do.”

“Well, believe it or not; it’s not that different from dating a woman.”

“Which doesn’t help me much, since I’m apparently pants at that too.” Harry pouts, fiddling with the napkin he still hasn’t been able to let go of after the Sauce Incident.

“But that’s why I’m here, right? To teach you how to do it.”

“Still think it’s possible? You don’t think I’m a hopeless case?”

“Well, what do you think?” Malfoy’s smile is warm and surprisingly genuine, almost… _fond?_ “Come on, Potter, have you ever heard of a Slytherin who’d place a bet on something they didn’t fully believe in?”

“Er, no?”

“Then don’t you worry about it; it’ll only get you headaches and premature wrinkles.” Harry frowns at Malfoy’s wink, prompting the man to add, “as will that. Now, here’s what we’ll do…”

* * *

_The Malfoy Crash Course in Dating Excellence_ apparently consists of two main elements: informative, fact-focused mini-seminars and inspirational practical workshops.

Each session will consist of bite-sized, easy-to-digest chunks from both elements, repeated as needed as ‘practice makes perfect’. And, since they have a lot of ground to cover in such a limited time, Malfoy insists Harry makes time to meet with him on a daily basis until the Master deems his Apprentice ready for the ‘real thing’.

Harry doesn’t really know what to think but eventually decides to give Malfoy a fair chance before writing it all off as poppycock. _What harm could it possibly do?_

Which is why Harry opens his front door to greet Malfoy at two o’clock the following day, ready to take the Erumpent by its horn.

“What?” he says as Malfoy’s scrutinising gaze travels over his attire. “I spent twenty minutes trying to figure out what to wear. This is the best I can do.”

“Hmm.” Malfoy’s lower lip seems to be trapped between his teeth and he doesn’t look all that convinced as his eyes return to Harry’s face. “It’s passable, I guess, but I’ll better make sure to fit in a proper shopping spree in our schedule at our earliest convenience.”

Harry scoffs. “You’re going to take me shopping for clothes?”

“Well.” Malfoy’s perfectly formed eyebrow rises high towards his hairline. “You’re obviously not to be trusted with a mission like that on your own. Now, where do you want to go today?”

Malfoy motions for the street, prompting Harry to step over the threshold and close the door behind him. A not-at-all-unpleasant shiver travels up his spine as Malfoy places a light hand on the small of his back, guiding him down the front steps.

“I don’t know,” Harry says. And if his voice is a tad strained, he decides to ignore it. “You’re the pro, Malfoy. Surprise me.”

A challenge Malfoy seems to take literally because what follows is nothing but a constant string of dates as unpredictable as the man himself.

They’ve already agreed to stay away from the wizarding world, neither of them ready to instigate the commotion being spotted together dating would doubtlessly cause. But Harry had no idea Malfoy was such a Muggle-savvy man. Not only does he handle pounds and pennies like a pro, but he knows how to talk with Muggles without causing suspicion. He can easily blend in, navigating trains and buses and even the ticket barriers on the Underground.

What's more, he knows so many places Harry’s only heard of in passing, if at all, and over the next few weeks, he takes Harry to them, letting him experience everything from paintball and arcade games to horse riding and karaoke. They go to a wine and cheese tasting and they visit the Greenwich Observatory. They go on a boat trip down the Thames and even to a pottery class (because ‘every Potter should know how to potter, right Potter?’).

With no means of resistance, Harry is helplessly drawn into the enchanting whirlwind that is Draco Malfoy, spellbound by the man who’s been intriguing him like no other for over a decade.

* * *

“All right, first things first,” Malfoy declares after tasting his lentil soup with a pleased hum. “ _Manners and appearance_.”

Harry can’t help it; his eyes roll of their own accord. They’ve just completed their first ‘inspirational workshop’, a round of indoor mini-golf — a concept Harry wasn’t even aware existed but had ended up enjoying quite a lot — and now the time has apparently come for today’s introductory ‘mini-seminar’.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” Malfoy says, pointing his spoon at him over the table. “I’m not the one having trouble with my dating life; I can walk out that door at any time if—”

“Okay, okay. Relax, will you?” Harry throws a nervous glance around the place, hoping no one’s caught their conversation. “Please, do impart your superior dating knowledge, o esteemed Master.”

Malfoy’s eyes narrow and, for a brief moment, Harry wonders if he’s gone too far. With Malfoy, it’s always hard to know where to draw the line.

However. “So, _Manners and Appearance_. We touched on several of these yesterday, but _repetitio mater studiorum est_. Turn up on time, don’t be under-dressed, at least _try_ taming your impossible hair, offer to pay for the bill—”

“I always pick up the bill,” Harry objects, disgruntled, causing a spray of breadcrumbs to litter his plate.

“Well, I guess that’s something, at least; one point for Gryffindor. Now, where were we? Yes, don’t speak with food in your mouth,” Malfoy continues with a pointed look that makes Harry’s cheeks grow hot, “open the door for your date and pull out their chair, replenish their drinks and walk them home at the end of the evening. Are you with me so far?”

Harry nods, making sure to chew and swallow before answering this time. “Er, yeah, I think so?”

“Then repeat it to me, please...”

* * *

“Everything all right in there?”

“Yeah, I—” Harry scowls at himself in the mirror, wondering why he ever let Malfoy talk him into this.

There aren’t many things he hates in his life these days, but clothes shopping is definitely one of them. And yet, here he is, closing in on three hours, obediently trying out outfit after outfit, garment after garment, turning this way and that, following Malfoy’s directions as the man hums and sighs, nods and frowns, all the while constantly bringing yet more items to the changing room. Harry is certain he must have tried on every single piece of menswear in Muggle London by now, and his only wish is for this to be over so he’ll never have to set foot in a clothing shop ever again.

“Well, come on, then. Let me see.”

“O-okay.” Harry swallows. The collar isn’t tight by any means, Harry can easily fit his fingers between it and his neck, yet it feels like he’s suffocating. He’s never worn a slim-fitted dress shirt in his life; why would he, when tees and hoodies are so much more comfortable? It’s a nice colour on him, though — even Harry can see that — a deep, warm purple, almost shimmering in the overhead light. It’s a garment he’d never give a second glance if he were on his own, much like most of the clothes Malfoy’s had him trying out today, but just as with the rest, he finds himself trusting Malfoy’s judgement implicitly. A weird concept, indeed.

The look on Malfoy’s face tells him all there is to know. If Harry were to return with only one purchased item from this shopping spree, this would be it.

“That’s… I—” Malfoy clears his throat and licks his lips, then frowns. “Hmm, try…” Harry shivers as the gentle ripple of wandless magic wafts over him, unfastening the two uppermost buttons of the shirt, allowing him to breathe. “There. Better?”

Harry nods silently and fights the heat threatening to rise on his cheeks.

“Good. Now, give me a twirl, will you?” Harry does what he’s told, feeling Malfoy’s eyes on him like a scorching flame as he does. “That’s it, Potter. No more oversized t-shirts or baggy jeans for you.”

“Yes, sir.”

Harry must have imagined the slight tremble in Malfoy’s voice, because once he completes his rotation, he finds the man as relaxed as ever, a pleased smirk curving his lips.

* * *

“Today’s topic I’ve decided to call _Savour the Moment_ ,” Malfoy announces as they’re finally seated in the British Museum’s cafeteria with two generous portions of Caesar salad on the table between them. “Any idea what it’s about?”

“Er…” The question catches Harry by surprise; Malfoy’s never asked him to interpret a topic beforehand before, and his brain is still on overload from all the wizarding facts about seemingly benign Muggle objects that Malfoy’s been revealing over the past few hours. “I don’t know, be happy she hasn’t dumped you yet?”

Malfoy chuckles. “Not quite, but let me ask you this. When you go on a date, do you bring a mental checklist? A list of traits and characteristics you’re looking for in a future partner?”

“Of course. I’d like her to be—”

“Drop it. Leave your checklist and expectations at home. You should be in discovery mode, not ticking off items from a list. You’re getting to know someone, someone real, not expecting them to be someone you’ve never even met.” Harry nods. When put like that, it does make sense. “Don’t worry if they’re ‘the one’ or not, don’t think that far ahead. Just enjoy the moment and appreciate the person in front of you for who they are.”

“I— Yeah. Right. I can do that.”

* * *

“One of the most critical factors for successful dating is the choice of where and how you’ll be spending your date. You’ll want to have a good time, or more specifically, you’ll want _your date_ to have a good time. It’s only when they’re comfortable and relaxed in your company that they will be able to focus on getting to know you and, even more importantly, able to start showing you their true self. You want to sweep them off their feet, and that’s not done through awkward silences or anxious tension. You’ll both be jittery enough as it is, without that extra level of nervousness.”

“True.” Harry tears his gaze from the stunning view of London to take in Malfoy’s equally stunning profile. “So, what to avoid then? Any examples?”

“Sure.” Malfoy turns to face him fully and Harry readily mirrors the action, ignoring the town far below. “Take a place like this, for example; the London Eye. Thirty minutes trapped in a limited space is a surefire way to kill the buzz if you suddenly find yourselves with nothing to talk about. So, if you haven’t met before, always make sure to provide the possibility for either of you to retreat, if only to the loos, should the need arise.”

“Good point.”

“Of course, once you know you’re compatible enough to keep a conversation going, or feel comfortable enough in one another’s company not to mind the occasional silence between the two of you, you’re free to choose any activity you’d think your date would enjoy.”

“Of course.”’

Harry returns to the view, contemplating Malfoy’s words as he watches the constant stream of tiny people moving along the streets below. He wonders what it means that Malfoy decided to take him here; if he’d anticipated an awkward silence to stretch out between them — just to give Harry a practical example of his point — or if he actually thought them ‘compatible and comfortable enough’ to enjoy it. Thing is, the current silence doesn’t feel uncomfortable at all, and when Harry eventually decides to break it, it’s solely out of sheer curiosity.

“So, where should someone take _you_ on a date if they wanted to ‘sweep you off your feet’?”

“Oh, well… Any place that offers high-quality food and a decent wine list, really. Preferably someplace with live music that allows for some post-dinner slow dancing if the mood strikes.” Malfoy’s lips quirk into a dreamy smile. “I’m not saying I need to be taken to The Golden Cauldron or anything. Although, it’s on my bucket list…” He shoots Harry a glance before adding, “Did you know they have a three-month waiting list if you want to book a table?”

Harry chuckles. “Yeah, I heard.”

Maybe now’s not the best time to divulge the fact that he once declined an invitation to their grand opening.

* * *

“ _Authenticity_ ,” Malfoy declares, letting the word settle between them as he takes the first sip of his mochaccino. A speck of white foam clings to his upper lip, and Harry can but watch as the tip of Malfoy’s pink tongue darts out to catch it. “While there are certain topics you should always avoid in the initial phase of dating” — _dating scene, past relationships, politics, religion, life problems_ , Harry’s brain dutifully reels off — “you should always be honest. You should always strive to show yourself for who you are. Otherwise, you’re just setting yourself up for disappointment later. Don’t try and be perfect—”

Harry chuckles. “I’m definitely not perfect…”

“No, you’re not.” Malfoy’s warm smile is like a soothing balm. “None of us are. We all have our quirks, our flaws and weaknesses; they’re what makes us precious and unique. No one would endure living with someone who is perfect in every way, it would only make you feel inadequate and even more of a failure. So be yourself. Hopefully, it will also encourage your date to do the same.”

* * *

Harry returns to their table, taking a long swig of his beer while checking the scoreboard. “So,” he ventures over the characteristic clack-and-clattering coming from one of the lanes further down to their left, “if you’re such an expert dater, how come you’ve never found anyone you’ve liked enough to want to get serious with?”

“Oh, I have,” Malfoy says with a faint smile.

“You have?”

“Yeah. The man of my dreams, actually.”

“Wow, that’s… brilliant, Malfoy. Good for you.” Harry’s fairly sure the sinking feeling in his gut is due to the fact that Malfoy hasn’t cared to mention this significant detail about his life to him earlier. He frowns. “But then, why aren’t you—?

Malfoy shrugs, rising from his seat. “He’s just never shown any interest in me, is all.”

“But…” Harry watches as Malfoy walks over to the ball return to pick up his neon green projectile. “But you’re a great catch? How can he not…? Do I know him?”

Malfoy turns to give Harry an inscrutable look. “Er, yes.”

“Want me to talk some sense into him?”

Malfoy snorts, amusement dancing in his eyes. “No, thanks. It’s really not that big a deal; I’ve survived worse. Now, stop distracting me and watch as I show you how to shoot the perfect strike.”

And Harry does, thinking trousers that snug really shouldn’t be allowed in a public place like this.

* * *

It’s not even gone three weeks before Harry realises with trepidation that he’s falling — rapidly and irrevocably — in love with Draco sodding Malfoy. Draco — because he’s Draco now, even if Harry will never allow himself to say it out loud — who’s so charming and flirty that Harry tends to forget it’s all just for show, that Draco’s only like this because he’s teaching Harry his ‘moves’. Harry tries to remind himself it’s not real, that Draco’s not actually interested although it sometimes seems like he is.

Just like any other Slytherin, Malfoy simply doesn’t want to lose that stupid bet.

* * *

Harry sighs with pleasure as he sinks deeper into the cushioned chair, rolling his shoulders and breathing in the heavenly aroma of Vindaloo. Every muscle in his body aches from the exertion of their afternoon activity. “So, what’s today?”

“ _Attention_.” Draco winks and takes a sip of his sparkling water. “As in, show interest in what your date is telling you, listen, ask questions, make eye contact, don’t glance at your watch, and do throw in a compliment or two when you see fit.”

Harry nods, repeating Draco’s words silently to himself. Interest, listen, questions, eye contact… He doesn’t have any problem doing any of those things whenever he’s with Draco. The man is like a bloody attention magnet, drawing people’s eyes from across the room whenever he opens his mouth. Or just exists, really.

Harry chews his food absent-mindedly, recalling the sight of Draco halfway up that climbing wall not even an hour before. His lithe body must have been made for climbing, all long and lean and pure muscle.

“Your hair looks nice today, by the way,” Draco says, thankfully tearing Harry’s thoughts away from the mental view of his perfectly rounded arse. “Did you try that untousling potion I mentioned the other day?”

“Yeah, I…” Harry swallows, fighting a blush.

“I like it,” Draco declares. “Having it out of your face brings out your remarkable eyes.”

“I—” It takes all Harry’s willpower not to avert his gaze. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.” Draco winks and returns to his food.

Right. _He’s exemplifying, Harry. It’s. Not._ _Real._

* * *

“It’s not that I don’t want them to be happy; of course, I do. It’s just…” Harry stares unseeingly at the remains of their shared dinner, a traditional Swiss cheese fondue Draco claimed he’d always wanted to try. “It’s hard, you know, to see them together and being reminded of my own loneliness…”

“I know.” Draco’s voice is so soft and gentle, comforting Harry’s aching heart like a plush security blanket.

“I-I just don’t want to…” Harry lowers his gaze to find Malfoy’s hand on his own, his pale thumb brushing gently over the darker skin of Harry’s knuckles. He swallows. “…end up alone.”

“You’re not alone.” Draco gives his hand a light squeeze and Harry looks up into warm, silver-grey eyes. There’s a consoling smile curving his mouth, and Harry’s heart is pounding so hard it hurts.

“Oh, shut up,” he says, promptly quelling the hope rising in his chest. “You know what I mean.”

“I do,” Draco says. “I—”

And that’s when the waiter comes over and effectively breaks the unbearable tension between them.

* * *

There’s a pleasant buzz ringing in Harry’s ears as they walk down the street, close enough for Draco’s wool-clad arm to occasionally brush against his. The pavement is coated with a light dust of snow that glistens in the soft light of the streetlamps, and the chilly air is nipping at their cheeks, keeping them awake despite the late hour.

The jazz club Draco took him to tonight was about the swankiest place Harry’s ever set foot in, and the cocktails they’ve been drinking have made him tipsier than he’s been in quite a while. He knows those conniving things are nearly pure alcohol, but it’s hard to keep that in mind when they taste so sweet and look so pretty. Also, it’s easy to lose count when your thoughts are occupied elsewhere, like with the pleasure of your company, his glorious wit, his ravishing looks.

And those lips. Those plump, rosy lips, shiny from sugary drinks and alluring like a Siren’s song.

Harry’s hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it all evening; what it’d feel like to kiss them.

“…and that’s basically it,” Draco says as they approach Harry’s front door. “Because I hope to Merlin I won’t have to teach you about the birds and the bees too.”

Harry chuckles. “No, that won’t be necessary.” _Although I wouldn’t mind some practical workshops on the topic if you’re amenable_ , he doesn’t add.

“All right then.” They come to a standstill on Harry’s doorstep, turning towards each other. Harry can feel the anticipation gathering in the pit of his stomach, a swirl of jittery heat pulsing at his core. “In that case, I think you just passed the exam, Potter. I have nothing more to teach you.”

“But it’s…” _too soon_ , Harry’s brain cries. It’s almost a week left before Valentine’s; this can’t be it. _I thought we had more time._

“Must be nice to finally get some time to yourself, eh? To have me out of your hair.”

“I— Yeah,” Harry manages, reminding himself for the gazillionth time that this was never supposed to be real, that he shouldn’t feel disappointed about it being over.

“Just let me give you one last tip,” Draco says softly, the corner of his mouth twitching into a lopsided smile.

“Yeah?” Harry breathes, hoping against hope for an extra-curricular masterclass in the wonders of passionate lip-locking.

Draco does lean in and Harry’s stomach swoops, his lips tingling as Draco’s hot breath ghosts over his skin.

“Always,” Draco murmurs, “leave them wanting more.”

_Wha—?_

Draco draws back — with his breath and his warmth and his stupid, heady scent. Harry shivers at the loss, trying but failing to clear his muddled brain.

“There,” Draco says, giving Harry’s shoulder a friendly pat. “No need for me to stick around anymore; you’ve got this, Potter.”

And just like that, he’s gone, whisked away by the magic of Disapparition, leaving Harry and his futilely waiting lips behind in the chilly February night.

* * *

_Valentine’s Day_

* * *

Harry’s barely out of the shower when the green flames of the Floo roar to life in his living room. He blinks at the unexpected caller as he kneels in front of the hearth, making sure to keep a tight grip on the towel wrapped around his waist.

“D— Malfoy?”

“Er… yeah. Did I…” Draco frowns. “Is this an inopportune time?”

“No, not at all. Why?”

“Because you’re… naked?”

“Oh.” Harry looks down on his bare chest where stray droplets of water still cling to his dark curls. “Well, I just came out of the shower.”

“Ah. That’s… good. I—” Draco swallows and averts his gaze. “I just wanted to check in to see if you ever found yourself a date for the evening?”

“Yeah.” Harry smirks. “Yeah, I did. Just getting ready now.”

“Oh. I see. Brilliant,” Draco says without conviction. “Are you nervous?”

Harry chuckles. “Yeah, quite a bit.”

Draco’s eyes finally return to Harry’s, accompanied by an encouraging smile. “Don’t worry; you’ll ace it.”

“Thanks. I—” Harry licks his lips. “How about you? Any hot date waiting for you now that you don’t have to entertain me anymore?”

“Yeah, I— I have a blind date, actually.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Draco shrugs. “Just some bloke Granger wanted me to meet. He’s picking me up in an hour.”

“Cool.”

“So…” Draco hesitates, distracted, his gaze straying to Harry’s damp chest before shooting up to meet Harry’s eyes again. “What do you plan on wearing?”

“That black Muggle suit we bought that time, with the purple shirt.”

Draco nods approvingly. “Good choice, Potter. I’m proud of you. You’ll look absolutely stunning.”

“Thanks.”

“I hope your date realises what a good catch you are.”

“Me too.”

“Well… I shouldn’t keep…” Draco gestures vaguely towards Harry’s unready state. “Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” Harry smiles. “Have a nice evening.”

“You too. Good Luck.”

“Thanks.”

* * *

Harry takes a deep breath through his nose, willing his heart to slow down. His fingers are itching to run through his hair, but he manages to resist the urge at the last minute. Instead, he hastens to clench his fist and knock on the door before his courage leaves him. _This is it._

“Potter? What are you—”

“Draco…” Harry clears his throat. “I’m Harry; your date for the evening.”

Draco’s jaw drops, and as he blinks, Harry takes the opportunity to extend his arm, offering Draco the long-stemmed, red-tipped yellow rose Neville had said symbolised friendship evolving into love.

“Oh. I—” The flower draws Draco’s gaze, holding his attention for several excruciating seconds before those stormy-grey eyes, still swirling with confusion, eventually return to Harry’s.

“Unless you don’t—?”

“I do,” Draco blurts with a slight headshake. “I most definitely…”

“Then, take care of this and don your finest coat.” Harry motions for Draco to take the rose, which he does after another brief moment of hesitation. Harry can’t help grinning at his stunned expression. “I wouldn’t have minded standing here all evening waiting for your brain to catch up if it weren’t for the fact that we have a reservation to…”

“Right.” Draco nods decidedly. “I… I’ll be back… I’ll just…” He motions with the flower before disappearing into the kitchen without another word.

When he returns two minutes later, he’s managed to collect himself somewhat, shrugging on his coat without much fuss and complementing it with a steel-blue scarf and black leather gloves.

“Wizarding London okay with you?” Harry asks, offering his arm for a Side-Along.

“You…” Draco frowns, searching Harry’s face as he wraps his hand around Harry’s arm. “You sure you want to…?”

“As long as you don’t mind,” Harry says, knowing full well what his suggestion implies; that he’s ready to go public with their relationship — a relationship that has never really existed…

…until Draco smiles and murmurs, “I don’t mind.”

Harry takes him to The Golden Cauldron; because sometimes it’s actually warranted to use your fame to get ahead in life, like when you want to take your boyfriend to the most exclusive restaurant in wizarding Britain on Valentine’s Day.

He’s not surprised to notice their arrival manages to turn quite a few heads, but it all soon fades away when he catches the wondrous expression on Draco’s face. He looks like a child on Christmas morning, taking in the prestigious venue with evident admiration, his vibrant eyes sparkling in the light from the many chandeliers. He’s so gorgeous like this, all happy and unguarded. Harry has never wanted him more.

They’re seated in a quiet corner, out of sight from most probing eyes, and the hours fly by as they enjoy the evening, the delicious food, the delectable wine, and most of all, each other’s company. They talk and laugh, and they toast with champagne. They play footsie under the long tablecloth and share the chef’s special Valentine’s dessert.

And then they dance, cheek to cheek, wrapped up in each other’s arms, swaying to the soft tones of _Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered_ as time stills and the world around them fades away.

“So,” Harry murmurs, dizzy from the nearness of Draco’s solid body and the spicy scent of his cologne. “I believe I owe you ten Galleons.”

The soft rumble of Draco’s chuckle vibrates through Harry’s veins, making him hot all over. “Keep them,” he says, drawing back to look Harry in the eye. “I’ve already got exactly what I wanted.”

Harry could easily drown in those enigmatic eyes, glistening like liquid silver and currently dark with promise. Yet, his own eyes close of their own accord as Draco leans in and finally — _finally_ — lets their lips touch for the very first time.

Two hours later, Harry realises he doesn’t mind sucking at dating at all; at least not as long as he gets to do it the Malfoy way.

And especially not after Draco decides to return the favour.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> I love and cherish any and all feedback you’re willing to give me — kudos, comments and recommendations are my primary life sources.
> 
> For more interaction, please find me on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/drarrelie)
> 
> This work is part of the [Seven Shades of Romance anthology](https://archiveofourown.org/series/2153148), a series of Drarry fics inspired by the romantic spirit of Valentine's Day.
> 
> There’s also a playlist created for this anthology that can be found [here on Spotify](https://spoti.fi/3tIY5TG); one song for each of the seven fics included in the collection.


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